


I'm on to you, funnyman.
I have been somewhat unhealthily obsessed with state opposition leader Ted Baillieu's recent campaign 'choices'. DID ANYONE NOT SEE HIM EMERGING FROM THE SURF ON TUESDAY NIGHT'S NEWS JIGGLING HIS TACKLE INAPPROPRIATELY.

'Calm yourselves, ladies!'
Sure, the alternative would have been a career-killing disaster (you can only imagine the field day the press would have had if he'd burst robustly from the water with the tip of his penis poking adorably out of his swimmers), but the genital-management took a smidge longer than was healthy, crossing the line from 'everybody in? Good-o' to 'mmm, blood rushing to my special area. Might nip off to the toilet block for a quick wank'.
Ted seems intent on making a complete nobjockey of himself throughout the campaign. From swinging wildly off street signs to dressing up as Elvis

'Don't step on my blue suede shoes, chaps! They're imported!'
to pretty much just whoring himself out to whatever photo opportunity presents itself. And the thing is, it seems to be working. Voters apparently enjoy seeing the man bidding for their love breaking down the 'toff' barrier and showing them he's just like them at the office Christmas party after one too many egg-nogs and an encouraging makeout session with Julie from front desk. And lest we forget, in the wrong hands a photo opportunity can be an awfully black mark on one's cv:

B/D Top seeks N/S Ganymede with GSOH etc.

'HAY GUYS CHEK OUT ME AND THE BABYS'

Admittedly not a campaign photograph, but an enduring image nonetheless and certainly worth including.

'Pass me a spankerchief darling, I'm off to audition the finger puppets'.
352 days til the next election.
Comments
Hi Fits, great work once again. However, as a 40-something band member myself, why do these people, looking for the 'cool' photo op, insist on turning their collars up when they grab a mic? For me it's way too Duran Duran or Footloose or something, and just a bit bloody pathetic. And that Costello shot is priceless.
Ms Fits, unrelated, I've been sent a series of emails from NZ that are ina simialr vien to 'Claire Swires' although not as saucy. Where should I forward them please?
oh dear. Really? Have you tried the Herald Sun?
Sorry Fits, I thought you may be interested....bugger the Hun. cheers
Yes, agreed, nice work.
Although I welcome any use of that Downer in fishnets shot, it doesn't even have to be actually related to the content of anything. It just reveals so much.
oh, oh, oh! Yes please indeed, do forward them to me. I apologise, I misunderstood.
reasonsyouwillhateme@gmail.com.
God bless Fitz, that's quite made ones morning.
costello + babies == ick.
The caption, of course, should be "Come on white women, get yourselves making more of THESE"
As far as Ted - obviously his focus groups said he should try to appear more like a normal person, and less like a member of the cream of the upper class. Whoever managed to sell that to him is a dead-set legend. His campaign stunts have been works of surreal genius. Not that I'm going to vote for the prick, of course.
Beautifully put, anthony. Bravo.
I've sent it to your email Ms Fits. enjoy!
"they're imported".
hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee.
Was very disturbed by Age's photo which seemed to imply A COMPLETE LACK OF DICK-STICKERS/BUDGIE SMUGGLERS/TACKLE TUCKERS AT ALL.
Had a little vomit about that.
whenever i see that downer shot, it reminds me that it wasn't all just a bad dream. it was very, very real.
please share the emails? once they've been through the fits-filter-of-good-taste (heh)
Hmmm...how did they manage to find photographic evidence of Costello's number one wet dream I wonder?
I was searching for the pic of Bob and Blanche, where Bob was wearing his dickos.
But I found this instead.
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=90476424
Hi Ms F thanks for disturbing my world yet again!
Howard has to make up to Costello some how for hanging around beyond his use by date! (Assuming he ever had one!)
I guess dreams do come true? Well for Costello anyway.
If only my dreams of political assignation of the current PM could come true.
Does this wish make me evil ?
Thinking of Ted in dick stickers is suicidal material; his wife must go through a shit load of Valium and Chards’ to get thru this karmic marriage.
Ted running against Bracker’s is bit like Kim running against Howard?
It like why even bother if you know the outcome, I’m beginning to think all Pollies must be seriously deluded or on crack!
Frankly I think “Father Ted” would have more chance winning the Election!
If only my dreams of political assignation of the current PM could come true.
Sorry, Anon? You want to have a secret lovers' rendezvous with the PM and get busy with "Little Winston"?
the fuck?
My mother uttered two disturbing sentences in my general direction regarding young Mr "I Can See The Outline of Your Tallywhacker" Baillieu the other night which I thought I'd share:
1) "Ooh! I think he's really cute!"
and
2) "It's not his fault his rich!"
Should I be worried?
I am surprised that the advertising agency came up with the Neptune idea. Fuckers forgot the pitchfork though, they remembered the sea snail on the right however.
Aww SO fuckin wasted last night...saw Ryan Phelan from sports tonight fingering this ho under the stairs at the strippers'!! WTF no shit.
I hope Ted wins tomorrow. He won't, but I wish the libs would get back in.
Thank you for sharing, Mrs. Baillieu. You are always welcome here at RYWHM.
It's interesting that Ted and Steve really think there is election gold to be mined through the dissemination of "Here's me emerging from the water!" shots. Because everyone wants to see their possible future leader in speedoes?
Here's to hoping Beazley and Howard don't sign up... *shudder*
oh god.
*pushes away lunch*
Ha Ha!
Mr Budgie Smuggler!
Great post. Frankly, I've found Ted's antics quite welcome in an otherwise rather dull state election campaign.
Can you please stop using the expression "crazy eight bananas". It's "crazy ape bananas". Google backs me on this 28 to one. Thanks.
Comments are closed.